Born Again
by AlwaysPadfoot
Summary: When Draco Malfoy is struck by a wayward killing curse, Death should have greeted him. Instead, he finds himself face to face with someone much scarier.


**AN:** Prompts will be displayed at the bottom to avoid them potentially giving away things.

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 **Born Again**

 **AlwaysPadfoot**

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The last thing Draco remembers is the battle.

There is screaming. Curses fly wildly through the air and all Draco remembers feeling is a sense of impending doom. He's right to do so, of course, because as he runs for cover something terrible happens. The final thing he sees is a harrowingly familiar streak of sickly green hurtling towards him. The impending doom hits him square in the chest

He succumbs to darkness.

If that's the last thing he remembers then why is he waking up, bleary-eyed, on the floor of the courtyard. If the battle has just happened, where is all the fallen rubble? Where's the evidence of the destruction he'd seen?

Draco arms shake as he pushes himself off the floor and onto his knees. His whole body aches, but he's distracted by something else entirely. His clothes are… baggy. The sleeves of his jumper drop down over his hands; everything is just hanging off him. It's not right — he doesn't feel right. There's something going on beyond the fact that he seemingly just survived the killing curse.

He needs to find a bathroom. At least, he needs to get off the floor and figure out what the fuck is happening to him.

Unfortunately, almost as soon as he stands up, wand light shines in his face.

"Don't try and run away." The voice that speaks is female, the accent Scottish, and Draco squints at her as she continues to speak. "I've already had people try."

"Lower your wand," Draco demands. "Before you blind me, thanks."

She does, but when Draco meets her gaze, she's scowling. Her lips are pressed together tightly. She looks pissed, but he can't help but notice that the girl's wearing Gryffindor robes with a Prefect's badge pinned to her lapel. He doesn't recognise her.

"What's your name? I don't recognise you," she says. "What are you? Fourth year?"

"Please. I'm nearly eighteen. Besides, I could ask you the same thing," he counters. "I don't recognise _you_ either."

The girl scoffs. "You're not nearly eighteen."

"I am."

"Okay, _you're_ eighteen," she responded dryly, but now she is furiously frowning at him, taking in his oversized clothes with suspicion.

Her knuckles are white she's gripping her wand so tightly. He finds himself looking to seize a window of opportunity in which to get away or grab her wand, but the Scottish girl's green eyes are trained on him. He's about to tell her his name when she lowers her wand entirely.

"We're going to Professor Dumbledore," she tells him.

Draco feels his colour drain. "Albus Dumbledore is dead."

To his surprise, the girl laughs. "Professor Dumbledore isn't dead; I saw him at dinner. Didn't you?"

Now he knows something is definitely up, Draco can feel himself panicking. Thoughts ran through his mind so fast that they were gone before he could focus on any of them. All he seemed to know for sure was there was no sign that a battle had happened here, he seemed to have shrunk in size, and this girl seemed to think Albus Dumbledore was alive.

"What's the date?" His voice is faint. "Tell me the date."

The girl looks worried now, so much so that she responded without hesitation. "It's May 2nd, well, May 3rd now."

"The year?"

"1952," she says. "What's wrong? You look like you're about to pass out."

"This isn't right," he explains. "Shit. This is wrong."

His hand goes out to lean against the archway behind him. His legs feel like jelly. The next thing he knows, the girl puts her wand away and catches his arm to support him. He's surprised. That being said, she is a Gryffindor, of course, she's just wantonly helping a stranger with any regard for her safety.

"You—you're from the future," she states.

Draco nods. There's white noise in his ears. He's left behind every he knows, everything he is. Time travel can't be possible, everything he's read on the subject just out of curiosity has been purely hypothetical. He's leaning on the girl heavily. Despite the fact he thinks she's crazy for helping him, he's eternally grateful for her presence.

"Okay, okay," she says. "Right, I have a plan. I'm going to help you."

"Why?" Draco asks.

"Because you're scared and alone," she replies simply.

"I'm not sc—" Draco begins before cutting himself off and sighing. "Okay, okay, fine. At least tell me your name. I'm Draco."

"Minerva. Minerva McGonagall."

"Of course you are." Draco mutters it so quietly Minerva doesn't seem to hear. "So what's your plan?"

He lets Minerva explain her action plan, admiring her ability to think on her feet. Her plan, for tonight, is to simply hide him away and let him rest. Then in the morning they would could up with his backstory together. Leading him through a secret passage that Draco has never encountered before, they end up in a small empty room that looks like it has only ever been used for storage.

Minerva waves her wand, conjuring him some blankets and pillows.

Draco allows himself to look around. In one corner, there are stacks of chairs and desks, and in the other old cauldrons and sets of scales. Spotting a dusty mirror resting against one of the desks, Draco steps back and leans towards it. His eyebrows shoot upwards upon seeing his reflection. Putting his hand to his face, he peers at himself closer. He's younger; he really does look like he's fourteen. He is definitely not the of age wizard he was just hours ago.

"Do you need anything else?"

Draco turns to see Minerva looking at him.

"No," he responds. "No, you've done plenty. I—I owe you."

She waves him off. "Don't be ridiculous. In the morning, I'll bring you some breakfast and we'll figure out a plan. Don't worry; get some rest, okay?"

Draco nods stiffly. He's overwhelmed by her selfless behaviour; it was kinder than anything he'd experienced it the last few years.

"Thank you," he says again.

She bids him goodnight and leaves him standing alone.

Draco finds himself staring at his reflection for a long time, amazed by the magic that has seemingly put him in this position — the magic that's made him young enough for a second chance. He can't fully convince himself that this is a good thing, but there's something about all the events of the day that makes him hopeful for some reason.

Minerva was right, of course, he was scared.

But she had managed to make him not feel quite so alone.

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 **Comps and Prompts**

 **LiM:** Crack: Draco/Minerva

 **Assignment 2: Geography, Task 13 -** Trope: De-ageing

 **IHC:** 475\. Item - Cauldron

 **365:** 248\. Restriction - no more than two people in story

 **SC — Days of the Year** — September 21 2018 - International Peace Day: Write about the aftermath of a war

 **SC — Shay's Musical Challenge** — **46\. Movin' Out -** write a cliche plot. alt, write about a war changing someone

 **WC — Character Appreciation** — 15. (trait) arrogant

 **WC — Disney Challenge** — S5. **Step In Time** \- Write about someone dancing badly. Alternatively, write a time travel!au.

 **WC — Cookie's Crafty Corner** — Purl Stitch - Write from the perspective of a Death Eater or someone on the wrong side of things.

 **WC — Em's Emporium** — 1. Lily (Jily Trash): Write a character study.

 **WC — Bex's Bazaar** — D5. [Theme] Bullying - Write about someone being bullied. Write from a bully's perspective.

 **Word Count** : 1095


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